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Everyone's had a crush on someone, and I can see why it's called a 'crush'. To look at her is to crush one's hopes like ripened, bursting fruit; to smell her hair and know she uses strawberry shampoo crushes the heart like a new pack of cigarettes; to talk to her and keep it against all the dictates of will and urge to trivialities crushes the spirit like that gentleman in Salem, Massachusetts, during the witch trials, who, after many stones were piled atop him, was asked a last time to confess; ribs and organs surely grinding to powder and paste, breath only leading over steep cliffs of broken glass to next breath, he wheezed: 'More weight'.
For, indeed, any who have loved so desperately and completely, deep in their broken hearts, despite all the agony of unrequited desire, must agree: 'More weight'.
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